


Decathlon

by ArtisticVicu



Series: RPApril Extravaganza 2017 [2]
Category: Original Work, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), a few poems, last is a random fic set in Othertale, multiple stories, variety of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisticVicu/pseuds/ArtisticVicu
Summary: Each chapter is a different thing.The chapter title is the event within the event.
Series: RPApril Extravaganza 2017 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684717
Kudos: 1





	1. The 100 Word Dash

The rain was heavy in the air as she sat beneath the pine tree, eyes wide as she watched the falling water droplets cascade through the air. Never had she cared about the weather but now she just couldn’t get enough of it. Thunder rumbled through her chest and she let out a shaky breath that condensed before her gaze before it dissipated in the chilly air. She turned her gaze towards the opening in the trees that revealed the rest of the mountains in the area and she gaped at the virga that brushed the mountainsides as the clouds seemed to be fog among the peaks. She just could not fathom never having cared for the weather before.


	2. The High-Ku Jump

There is this thing here  
that spins like a top for some  
hamster flinging fun.


	3. 200 Word Hurdle

He rolled up her sleeve, hissing in sympathetic pain. The undead were breathing down their neck but at least they had the brief reprieve for the moment to look over injuries. She stilled his hand as he moved to take care of her.  
  
“Don’t,” she hissed. “You know as well as I do the likelihood of me becoming one of the undead now.”  
  
He shook his head. “But there’s still a chance you won’t.”  
  
“Not a big enough one,” she growled. She winced, grunting as pain coursed through her. After a moment, she panted, relaxing. “Please. Don’t waste this on me.”  
  
He looked to her, wounded. He didn’t want her to become one of the undead. He didn’t want to have to kill her. But he wouldn’t go against her desire and he closed the kit, sighing. He glared at her, but it was more hurt than anything else. “Fine. But I am going to find a cure and rid us of all the undead and heal those bitten so that you will never have to worry about changing.”  
  
She smiled weakly, touching his arm. “I look forward to not have to worry about these blasted buggers ever again but, for right now, let’s deal with what is.”  
  
There was a bang from the other end of the building. The undead breached their defenses. Their reprieve has ended.


	4. The Plot Put

Just imagine: a school, a student body more extraordinary than we are, an unknown evil, and a Chosen One. At first it seems the plot is straight forward only for the end to leave us with a cliffhanger that the supposed final boss was only a subordinate for a much greater evil and we get subsequent sequels out of it (true number pending). Not only that but it is soon discovered that the Chosen One has some sort of connection to the great evil that they really should have no business going up against at their age. On top of that, there’s one professor that the Chosen One swears is evil but are told is good, one professor they swear is good but turns out to be evil (you’d be surprised on how many of these there are), and one professor they really should have been keeping an eye on but it never crossed their mind to even turn their attention to and are flabbergasted when this professor does something that, really, should have been expected. Then, when you can’t think the Chosen One is really not up to the task of defeating this great evil, the Chosen One goes off on their own on some quest of self discovery and come back all that more powerful.  
  
This is “A Completely Original Tale That Has Never Been Told Before.”


	5. The Copy Throw

Ever feel like life isn’t very filling? Ever wonder what you could do to make it better? Then I have the solution for your need.  
  
Shenanigans! The newest revolutionary product to liven up your daily life.  
  
Kids bored with their video games: apply Shenanigans!  
Dinner the same old boring stuff: add Shenanigans!  
Hate shoveling that snow every morning during winter: do it with Shenanigans!  
Work gotten mundane: use Shenanigans!  
  
There is nothing that cannot be made better with Shenanigans!  
  
**Not responsible for anything caused by Shenanigans. Shenanigans is known of making some situations worse. Please use Shenanigans responsibly. Do not allow those under the age of 18 to use Shenanigans without supervision. Shenanigans should not be taken with drugs or alcohol of any kind. Shenanigans is not advised for those with any sort of disorder or medical history of, well, anything that may inhibit one’s judgement or endanger one’s life. Do not operate heavy machinery while equipping Shenanigans. Do not drive while under the influence of Shenanigans. Shenanigans may cause hallucinations, nausea, diarrhea, hives, bloating, swelling, increased heart rate, brittle bones, heart attack, heart disease, liver failure, kidney failure, every sort of cancer imaginable, and death. Shenanigans is also known to curing every ailment known to man. You are literally taking a chance with this. Rolling the dice, so to speak. Do not come to use if you get something bad from using Shenanigans. We warned you.


	6. The 400 Word Dash

Air rushed into anticipating lungs. Adrenaline flooded veins with a pounding heart. Sweat beaded skin. Muscles tightened, ready to react at a moment’s notice. Rational thought slowly fell away.  
  
“I can’t do this,” she ground out.  
  
He squeezed her hand. “Yes you can. I’m with you every step of the way.”  
  
“It’s too big. There’s no way this won’t end in a disaster.”  
  
He frowned. “I doubt that.”  
  
She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “As if you’re in any place to speak.” She looked away. “I am not ready for this. I can’t do this.”  
  
“Yes you can,” he urged. “You’ve been prepared for this for so long.”  
  
“I can’t-”  
  
“Yes you can!” he cut in. “I know you. You are the strongest, bravest person I know. You’ll make it through this and not once regret your decision.”  
  
She looked at him but her disbelief was edged into the edge of her hopeful gaze. “You think so?”  
  
He smiled at her. “I know so.”  
  
The harnesses of the rollercoaster hissed open to let its current riders out. She gave his hand a squeeze before letting go and stepping up to her seat.  
  
Air rushed into constricted lungs. Adrenaline flooded veins as the heart rate increased. Sweat beading the skin was an unwelcomed physical reaction in the moment. Muscles locked, stuck in a state of fear that didn’t seem possible to override. Rational thought wasn’t a thing.  
  
“I can’t do this,” she breathed.  
  
He squeezed her hand. “Yes you can. I’m with you every step of the way.”  
  
“It’s too big. There’s no way this won’t end in a disaster.”  
  
His fond smile tainted frown was heard on his words. “I doubt that.”  
  
She closed her eyes, grounding out, “As if you’re in any place to speak.” She opened them again. “I am not ready for this. I can’t do this.”  
  
“Yes you can,” he urged. “You’ve been prepared for this for so long.”  
  
“I can’t-”  
  
“Yes you can!” he cut in. “I know you. You are the strongest, bravest person I know. You’ll make it through this and not once regret your decision.”  
  
She gave his hand a squeeze. “You think so?”  
  
He smiled at her. “I know so.”  
  
She relaxed, content in familiar words. He gave her hand a squeeze in return. “I’ll see you at the altar. The ride of your life hasn’t stopped yet.”


	7. The Poetry Vault

**Haunting Visage**  
Marked with fear  
Sharpened by time  
No longer there for me to see.  
Haunting visage  
Etched into my mind  
Please leave me be.  
An echo in mind  
A phantom in sight  
You will never let me forget.  
An accident  
A sharp blow  
It could have been so much worse.  
You were there  
Safe as could be  
Only to be taken out by the unforeseen.  
Now all I see  
Especially in sleep  
Is your haunting visage staring back at me.


	8. The 600 Word Relay

I leaned on the railing, overlooking what of the treetop village I could see. In all honestly, it was more like a city in the trees than a village. Some of the homes were massive with multiple chambers and the trees were equally as large, easilly supporting any structure these people made. Said people were moving about, some with someplace to be, other with a leasurely manner that spoke of no worry. And to think that there was a war brewing not even half a day’s travel from here and yet everyone was calm here. It was certainly a wonder.  
  
Wonder turned to curiosity as a scent drifted towards me from the home I was standing in front of. My stomach growled, complaining at the lack of food it had been fed during the day. I could’t really argue with the need to eat. The smells were delicious. I reentered the dwelling I had left and stepped right into the middle of what seemed to be a heated argument. One of my companions was going at it, though I came in half way through. “You don’t understand! This is all going to shit in a matter of days and who’ll-”  
  
“Who’ll do what?” the one they were arguing with shot in, cutting their words off. I glanced at the others in the room, taking in all of them standing as far away from the arguing pair as best they could in the small quarters. I didn’t envy them but this was ridiculous. Honestly, they had this argument, like, seven times a day and we had only been there for two. It was getting tired. “We’re not made for fighting in that! Or have you failed to pay attenion why you’ve been out galavanting and having such a wonderful time. Stop-”  
  
“Stop it, you two,” I spoke, my words heavy but calm as I physically stepped between them with a palm on either chest. I forced them both to take a step back, my touch never wavering. “We’ve all sat through this argument time and time again and we haven’t even been here that long. You two need to come to some sort of understanding before things fall to pieces. We are fully aware the vulnerability of this place and the best thing we can do is evacuate. You cannot prepare an army in such a short time. The… uh… the….”  
  
“The Lihitians,” the matron of the household stated. I dipped my head towards her in thanks as I lowered my hands and took a step away from the pair I had separated. They seemed to have calmed down enough to not need me as a buffer any longer but I didn’t dare stray too far. I didn’t trust them to keep their cool. The matron took over talking, though, so that was nice. She spoke, “There are many here that want to stay and fight and many more that just can’t. Sometimes it is best to be like the rain.”  
  
“Rain?” I asked, confused. The matron smiled but didn’t seem to have heard me when she moved about bustling everyone to some activity. I avoided her snatching me up and slipped back out. Apparently the food I has smelled wasn’t done yet according to her and if I had stayed in there, I would have risked being smacked by a spoon of some fashion. Pity. I was now really hungry. Aw well. Best enjoy the calm while I had it. After all, once the war came, there was going to be no way I could avoid conflict. Or could I?


	9. The Obit Throw

There are no words for the joy that comes from the one that has passed still haunting our days in the most wonderful ways. Michelangelo was always the prankster and jokester in life and through death. He never once let us be sad, always pranking us in ways that were harmless and telling horrible jokes. His favorite target was his brother Raphael and, even in the more dire days, it never failed to rile the hot-head up and end up in laughter. So, in his words, remember to always take a moment to laugh because life is too short to live it dull.


	10. The 1000 Word Dash

The sun was hot on his face and he enjoyed the sensation. It still boggled his mind that something so many had come to complain about was something he found enjoyable. But, then, those that complained had long since forgotten where they had come from. Those of the older generations try to remind the newer generations of the hardships that had befallen the world but many do not understand. So many now only know the world above that the idea of having been trapped below the surface of the planet is mind boggling. He was one of the few remaining souls that could clearly remember where they had come from, could say he lived there once. After all, he had grown up there, even if it was within the last handful of years of their entombment. He brought his chin down, looking over the field before him.  
  
The many buildings for the university he worked at - though that is a loose term for what he did - sat behind him in the summer heat and before him lay a field that took up a city block and was encircled by large trees and places to sit or study. The number of bodies in the area was small. It was summer vacation for a lot of student and, while a good number still chose to do summer courses, it was only a fraction of the total student body. Even a good number of the professors he worked with were on summer vacation, so to speak.  
  
He himself didn’t work overly hard throughout the normal school year and so chose to stay around during the summer as well to help those that needed it.  
  
“Kepler!”  
  
He turned, expression curious. One of his dear friends - a student at the university but not in his department - was running towards him, backpack slapping against his back. The man came to a stop before him and was forced to look up at him. Kepler was taller than most people to begin with and his dear friend just happened to be shorter than the average man. Did not seem to affect how others saw him, though. He still had people approaching him at random just to chat with him. He mostly assumed it was because he looked friendly? He doubted he would ever figure that out.  
  
“I did not realize you were taking courses during the summer, Alex,” Kepler spoke, already knowing the answer.  
  
Alex grinned at him. “Came hunting for you, ya bag of bones. Courtney and Sasha are dropping into town. They wanted to meet this mysterious professor I’ve befriended.”  
  
Kepler rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Alex, I will never understand why you insist on calling me a professor. I am nothing of the sort.”  
  
“Do you teach classes?”  
  
Kepler blinked. “Sometimes, but that-”  
  
“Do you dish out homework?”  
  
“Well, yes, but only-”  
  
“Do you have students coming for you for help on yer subjects?”  
  
“Of course, but that doesn’t mean-”  
  
“Then yer a professor!” Alex grinned at him and Kepler let out a frustrated breath, though amusement colored his expression. “Come on. My sisters will only come up with more embarrassing questions the longer we let them stew.”  
  
Kepler chuckled, following at a much more sedated pace after his friend. After all, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to be. Alex knew his schedule just as well as Kepler knew Alex’s. Hard not to with them being roommates and all. Kepler had never been comfortable in the large house his dad had gifted him before passing so had come to renting it out to students that were not in his department ever. A stipulation he was adamant about.  
  
If only you could see this, Dad, Kepler offered softly, his thoughts drifting as his gaze drifted skyward. He looks so much like Father, it’s uncanny. I wish you were here so that I could ask if he behaved like him. I hope so. I truly hope so with having been given the same name and the same face.  
  
That was the downside to aging at such a slow rate. generations passed in the blink of an eye and he had seen too many people behave like previous people he had known to not believe in some form of reincarnation. While his interaction with Alex was to be short lived due to a number of factors, Kepler took this as a way of his father interacting with him as well. It eased some of his own worry about making his parents proud, even if his dad had told him time and time again he had made both of them proud many times over.  
  
“Kepler!”  
  
Kepler blinked, focusing ahead of him. Alex was waving at him, standing next to a nice car with three other people. One of which made Kepler stumble. There, tucked into Alex’s side and blushing like crazy, was someone who was the spitting image of his dad. Kepler wasn’t even sure he knew how to breath as his legs automatically walked him over to the group.  
  
“Kepler, this is my boyfriend,” Alex introduced, but the name sounded like static to him and it was only because he had been expecting the name that he was able to read it off of Alex’s lips. “He’ll be joining us with his brother.”  
  
Kepler’s head snapped around, looking for someone that was the spitting image of his uncle but saw none. Alex laughed, though it sounded tight. “He’s not here, yet.” Alex spoke the name and again static filled Kepler’s ears as he read the familiar name off of Alex’s lips, “is coming in a bit. He got caught in traffic.”  
  
Alex kissed his boyfriend’s temple, whispering something. The smaller man nodded, letting Alex step away. Alex grabbed Kepler’s arm and dragged him away, frowning. “Hey, what’s wrong? What’s got you so spooked?”  
  
Kepler swallowed thickly, unable to keep from glancing over at the reincarnate of his dad. He had never known his father which made it easy interacting with Alex, but he had known his dad and uncle for centuries, had watched them both die. He looked back at Alex, not sure if he could even put that into words his dear friend could understand. A first, in his 500 some odd years of life and he had no idea how to handle it.  
  
How do you tell someone they are your dead parent reincarnation and they’re dating your other dead parent reincarnation?


End file.
